Twelve years old when we finally got a CD player – not the
last house in the street I’m sure, but certainly not the first.
First album though, what a strange one, ‘Tutu’ by Miles Davis.
Not his worst but a very strange entry point. I’m so grateful,
I loved that album. And I dig it still. It introduced me to the music
that would captivate me for most of the next two decades of my life.
At one point I owned about a hundred CDs with Miles Davis on
the spine. And then there were all the other things I went off and
bought because of Tutu. Albums by Marcus Miller, checking credits
to find anything that featured Omar Hakim and Billy Hart. And what
about the number of albums I owned because of Miles Davis’ other
records – impossible to calculate, but all the Coltrane and Sonny Rollins,
Herbie Hancock and Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett. Anything with Tony
Williams and so many others…and all of this comes from Tutu. An album
my dad chose with a voucher after winning a sales competition and
bringing home the prize of a CD player. It was a life-changing event sat
together in that lounge listening to all those 80s synths and the drum-machine programming, the few parps from Miles – entering his final phase – was enough
to send me spiraling – so caught in the web of his sound. So glad
to have found a lifelong passion seemingly by fluke.